We Can Be Friends Can't We?
by clarembees
Summary: When Sam returns to Lima, he hopes he can be friends with Mercedes, but does she think they can?


_A/N: This takes place after Sam and his family have moved back to Lima. While I'm guessing their financial situation has improved, I don't think it's improved enough for Sam to be without an after school job of some kind, so that's why he's working at Burt's garage._

**We Can Be Friends (Can't We?)**

**Sam and Mercedes, Glee**

**One Shot**

For the first time, Mercedes was _nervous_ when she approached Hummel Tire and Lube. She swore the familiar gray building _loomed_ in front of her like something out of a horror movie.

Shifting from one foot to the other, she thought about bailing, but a bitchy Kurt wasn't something she knew _not_ to trifle with. He was the only person who could step to her, so she took in a shaky breath, and knew what she had to do; go inside.

Instead of her usual confident strut, she slowly tip toed into the garage as if she were sneaking downstairs for a midnight snack and didn't want to wake anyone. It was crazy that she felt this way, but the truth was, she didn't how to handle being _alone_ with Sam. One second they had been spending every waking moment together, and then bam – his Dad got this offer about a job in Indiana, which he couldn't turn down even if he _wanted_ to, and they broke up.

Now all of the sudden, he was back because the company his Dad was now working for had moved their operations from Indiana to Ohio. Her heart leapt inside her chest the first time she saw his familiar blonde hair in the hallway. Because he was so tall – almost six feet – he stood head and shoulders above (save for Finn) nearly all of McKinley's students. He spotted her first, those cute, pink lips curving into that crooked smile of his; the one that reached all the way into his light green eyes fringed by long brown lashes.

Bounding toward her like a giant golden retriever, she was assaulted by his scent of Axe body spray, and her knees buckled. "Kaltxi," He said, his pale cheeks turning as pink as his lips from embarrassment. "Sorry." He rubbed the back of his neck, offering up a sheepish smile. "My inner nerd slipped out. You look..." His eyes went wide, seemingly trying to take all of her in at once, and her stomach tumbled when his voice dropped, "_Beautiful_."

Her cheeks flamed and her eyes fell to her shoes. Before _him_ no other boy besides Kurt (and he didn't _really_ count, did he?), had _ever_ called her beautiful.

There was no time to respond because she felt a large arm of her boyfriend Marcus pulling her into his beefy frame. Her stomach sank and shame washed over her in waves. Why she felt the way she did, she didn't understand. They had both agreed that a long distance relationship wasn't good for either of them; not with their senior years fast approaching. They had so much on their plates already; college applications, extra curricular activities, SAT and ACT prep, their regular course loads. Doing the long distance thing would just be _too much_.

But as she stood in the busy hallway with Marcus' arm around her and Sam's light green eyes staring back at her, she wished she could take it all back.

That encounter in the hallway was about a week ago, and since then, she had been avoiding him; not that she'd admit that to anyone. Kurt of course, had seen right through her act, and though their friendship had become strained, he still wasn't afraid to call her on her bull shit.

And that's how she found herself here; at Hummel Tire and Lube hoping to catch Sam during a break in his shift.

If she didn't know better, she would have _sworn_ Kurt told his Dad _not_ to give his open position to anyone but _Sam_. Mr. Hummel wouldn't do something like that, though; hire someone because his _son_ wanted him to. Apparently, Sam was, like, a born mechanic, and had fit in right away with the other workers.

Running her fingers through her glossy curls, she took another deep breath and walked just a little _further_ into the shop, stopping when she heard him say her name, "Mercedes."

Turning around, her breath left her lips on a hiss, her chest contracting upon seeing him.

The sculpted contours of his handsome face were covered in grease just like the tight white T-shirt he wore; the one she could only see because his coveralls were undone at the waist. With wide eyes, she stared at the shapely biceps that flexed beneath her gaze, dotted in a thin sheen of sweat and smudged with black, as he reached for a rag. He wiped down his long, dexterous fingers – those _same_ long, dexterous fingers she had felt touch her face, her lips, her breasts, and just _one_ glorious time (that would be burned into her brain forever) they had touched her between her legs, and she had to bite the inside of her cheek to stop herself from expressing her _absolute_ attention.

If they had an _actual_ conversation, she was gonna kill Kurt. No, she was gonna find his McQueen collection and light those expensive sweaters, jackets and boots on fire. Yeah. That would get him back for making her endure the torture that was Sam Evans, grease monkey.

Everything seemed like it was at a stand still. All there was, were Sam's light green eyes fringed in impossibly long brown lashes, staring back at her.

Shaking herself out of her trance, she asked, "I'm not keeping you from your work, am I?"

"Nah." He dismissed, lifting an arm to brush his hair out of his face, but smudged grease along his temple instead.

She couldn't stop the smile from forming on her lips. Laughing softly, she closed the small gap between them and stood on her toes to wipe the mess away. Her thumb smoothed over his skin, following the sculpted contours of his handsome face, careful not to let the grease touch his hair.

"Good as new." She whispered, her eyes looking up at him from behind the velvet fibers of her perfectly curled lashes.

He grinned slowly, sending her stomach tumbling. "Thanks, Cedes."

A hot flush filled her cheeks as she finally pulled her thumb back from his skin; she missed the warm feeling of it immediately. She didn't know what she was supposed to say, but she knew she should say _something_. If she didn't say something, she'd just stand there staring at him like some dang fool, and she was a lot of things, but a fool wasn't one of them.

"I'm sorry about avoiding you." She blurted out after another long silence stretched between them.

"It's cool." He shrugged, but his cute pink lips being pursed tightly gave him away.

"You ain't Puck, so don't even try pullin' his wannabe tough guy ish, you got me?"

Her hands are on her hips and she's staring him down like she did Rachel before their "Maria Off," and when he laughs, she whacks him hard on the shoulder. "This ain't funny!"

"Sorry!" He chokes out, hints of laughter still inside his voice. "It's just..." He swallows and his eyes slowly rake over every inch of her and wherever they roam, little bursts of warmth rush underneath her skin, making her feel unsteady on her feet.

She should back away as he moves closer, but she can't; she's rooted in her spot, waiting to see what his next move will be.

His thumb caresses her cheek, and her eyes flutter, the simple touch reminding her of not so long ago. Her stomach clenches when he whispers, head bent so his forehead is touching hers, "I missed you so much."

Pulling back, his lips quirk slightly, "I don't know how it's possible, but you managed to get even _more_ beautiful over the summer. There weren't _any_ girls back in Indiana who were like _you_, like, at all!"

"As if there would be." Her inner diva bursts to the surface. "Come on, dorkalicious, you know Mercedes Jones is an original. The mold broke when I came through."

His eyes are taking all of her in again, and she just about loses it, when his tongue slips out to wet his lips. His voice is low and husky – reminding her of that one time in her bedroom just before he left – and her thighs clench underneath her as heat settles into the pit of her stomach. "I know."

It's just two simple words, but they send her body into a frenzy. He's the only one who managed to turn her world upside down. He was a complete surprise; taking her to prom, dancing with her, making her laugh, kissing her, touching her. And he was doing it all over again.

"I don't want things to be weird..." He starts to say, letting out a deep breath before he continues. "Cause, like, that would _suck_. I know you're with Marcus now, and I just want to make sure you know that I respect that and stuff. Cause I do. If things were different, I'd have the most awesome senior year ever cause it'd be with you on my arm, but if you can't be on my arm, we can, like, try to be friends, right? I mean we were friends before we were..." His lips bloom into that damn adorable crooked grin, and her heart skips a beat. "What was it that Kurt called us? Samcedes? Yeah," He nods, knowing he got their little monicker right while his pale cheeks flush. "That's it, Samcedes. We were friends before _that_, and I'm hoping we can be friends _now_."

_Friends_.

The word hits her as if Coach Sylvester threw a dodge ball right at her stomach. Her vision is blurred by a sudden onslaught of tears. Her throat is tight, and she feels like she might fall over as her legs begin to shake.

She doesn't know why she feels this way. She should be _happy_ Sam wants to be friends, she _shouldn't_ be feeling like her whole world has been shattered. She has a _boyfriend_. And Marcus is a _great_ boyfriend. He's sweet and tender and caring and so encouraging.

But he's not _Sam_.

"You're crying." He whispers, brow furrowing adorably like a confused puppy. "Don't cry, Cedes. I'm _totally_ cool with being friends. I _swear_ on my DVDs of Avatar and Battle Star Galactica, all my Star Wars action figures, and _every_ single comic book I've ever owned or touched! Just, like, seriously can you _not _cry? Your tears are, like, my Kryptonite!"

She doesn't know _how_, but somehow she's _laughing_. You wouldn't know it by looking at him – with his All American good looks and his impressively fit body – but he really is just a _giant_ dork, and _too damn_ cute for her own good.

Blinking back the tears that coat the fibers of her lashes, she offers him up the best smile she can, "My tears are your Kryptonite? Am I supposed to know just what the hell that means?"

"I don't care if you ever do," He chuckled lightly, bringing his hand up to cup her cheek. "I just don't want to _ever_ see _you_ cry again."

"We're all good, dork..." She stops herself from using the nickname she gave him. Swallowing hard, she can't help but push her cheek further into the warmth of his calloused hand, and when she looks into his perfect clear green eyes, his name, "Sam," leaves her lips in a way that's _far_ from friendly.

He's close enough that she _swears_ she can see his body _shudder_, and she's hit by a rush of pride; knowing that she _still_ affects him in some way, in _any_ way. His voice is low, his is breath hot as it skitters across her face, "Cedes," He grounds out her name behind a sound that's somewhere between a growl and a groan. "If we're gonna be friends..." He swallows and brings his other hand to her other cheek, so she can't look away. "You _can't_ say my name like _that_."

She could play dumb, bat her eyelashes coquettishly, act like Rachel or Quinn or Santana would if they were standing where she was, but that's not her style. She's blunt and honest almost to the point of default, always standing her grown and never being afraid to speak her mind. But _what's_ on her mind right now, isn't something she should say aloud. At least not for a girl with a boyfriend.

"Sorry." She whispers, taking a giant step back.

"So..." He draws the word out, cute, pink lips forming at tight "o" shape, and it's nearly too much for her to take. "We're gonna be friends, right? And we're both cool with that and stuff? Cause like I said before, I don't want things to be weird for us. You're _awesome_. I mean, like, _just_ being around you is like having James Cameron in your living room providing directors' commentary while you watch Avatar, and I..." His voice falls away, his fingers running themselves through his hair and then scratching his neck. "I don't want to miss you again. Missing you _sucked_, Mercedes. It was, like, the _worst_ feeling ever. You know, like, hearing that Battle Star Galactica got canceled all over again or _worse_, like, hearing that Avatar 2 is _definitely not_ happening from Sam Worthington and Zoe Saldana themselves!"

Half the references he made, she doesn't understand, but she does understand the gist of what he's saying because missing him was the worst feeling ever for her too. And maybe he won't be her boyfriend again – though, if being in Glee club taught her anything it was that _all_ non-Asian and boy-on-boy relationships were doomed to fail – he wouldn't have to be _completely_ out of her life like she thought he was.

Being friends wasn't the end of the world. It was actually a good thing. And if she told herself that over and over, like it was her new mantra, she might get to the point where she _believes_ it. Then maybe her stomach won't tumble when he smiles or her heart won't skip a beat from staring into his green eyes and the urge to touch him – like she wants to right now – will just go away.

"Friends?" His tone is shaky, his eyes hooded and uncertain, but she nods in confirmation. "Friends."

_Note: When Sam greets Mercedes for the first time and says "Kaltxi," he's saying hello in the Avatar language, Navi. _

_Also when Mercedes mentions all the relationships in Glee club except the non Asian and the non boy-on-boy ones being cursed; she's referring to the characters of Kurt and Blaine and Mike and Tina._

_If you don't know Sam Worthington played the character of Jake Sully in Avatar and Zoe Saldana played Netryi, and of course, James Cameron directed the major motion picture._


End file.
